I’ve been extremely fortunate for the last few years to serve in a job that I’ve absolutely loved as the “Chief of Staff” and Business Manager of our Professional Services team. I’ve had a fantastic manager, a wonderful set of teammates who lead varying aspects of our business, and great opportunities to stretch in new ways as a leader and manager.

But!… A surprise in a Check-In

At first, it came as a bit of a surprise this summer when I was scheduled for a Check-In with my manager when we were both in New York City for meetings… I came prepared as usual with a clear story about what I’ve been focused on, what I’ve accomplished, what my goals are and how I’m heading in that direction, and how he and the team are supporting me.

But instead, at a sandwich shop in Midtown Manhattan, he said something like, (and I’m paraphrasing from my memory), “You’ve done an excellent job in this role. You do great work and receive great feedback from everyone around us in the company. But I kind of think that you’re at a point where you can do this job in your sleep. And in order for you to grow even more as a leader here, we need to find you a new role that gives you a new leadership challenge.”

He continued by noting that, based on my work, a lot of people would love to have me on their teams, so I had some space to suggest and create something that would be a good mutual fit. In the moment, off the top of my head, I threw out a few crazy ideas, none of which seemed quite right and all of which had big positives and negatives. We agreed to continue the conversation.

He was certainly right – I loved the job, but it was becoming less challenging with time, and I definitely saw that in order to continue my own career progression I needed a different challenge with my own direct leadership responsibility for a team and business of a larger scale. But it wasn’t an easy idea to let go of “my” current role. In my own pride, there was still a lot more that I envisioned doing with the role in order to serve him and the leaders and the broader team even better over the coming years.

“Grieving” and the feeling of loss

In the coming hours and days, I realized that I also needed some space to sort through the emotions of it all. Even though I was being set up for a whole new success that I could help to define, I still had the feeling of loss.

I’ve truly loved the challenge to help support our Sr. Directors and Directors (and our VP, my boss) in the day-to-day management of our business and with all of the special initiatives, communications, change management, collaboration with key business partners, and other Chief of Staff duties. It’s something to be able to say you’ve managed the day-to-day of a 600-person team and a $200 million business.

I was really going to miss doing the things I was doing. I was, in a sense, grieving the loss of the role that had started to be so connected to my work identity for the last few years.

In time, though, walking through the fog of that grief, and honestly supported by a meeting with my spiritual director (with whom monthly meetings are a requirement – and blessing – of being in deacon formation), I came to a sense of peace and excitement about what might be the next opportunity. I also came to a more important peace with the understanding that it wasn’t “my” role that I was sad to leave – it was what I had always tried to remember it to be: a role that I was shepherding for a period of time, in service to my boss, his other leaders, and our whole team.

Settling into some clarity

With that sense of peace of letting go of the role (even months before I was actually going to start to transition out of it) started to come some clarity on what could come next.

I remembered some advice from an old friend who was on my team a few years ago, who pointed out, “I’ve come to realize that you’re better off taking a job for the manager – the way you work together, the way they’ll support and nurture you and give you opportunities – than for the job itself.”

That helped me realize that I definitely wanted to stay in our professional services team, within the scope of my current manager’s overall team. Once I realized that, my next role became obvious…

One “smaller” but growing part of my Chief of Staff role had been overseeing the hiring and on-boarding of the new college graduates joining our team (and the leadership of our summer interns between their junior and senior years.) I LOVE the work with our new Associates and my team who were helping to support them. Knowing that we intended to continue to scale this effort around interns and new Associates and to keep them within the on-boarding program for a longer period of time meant that a leader was needed to oversee and grow that entire talent engine for our team.

Over the next few months, we started to discuss what the vision of a broader “Academy” for our interns, our new Associates, and even enhanced professional skill development for our entire professional services team might look like. The next opportunity to apply my passion and leadership started to become apparent.

For the last few months, while I’ve still been holding down my “day job” as Chief of Staff through the back half of our fiscal year, I’ve increasingly been “moonlighting” with my team members who currently oversee the college grad effort and spending more time driving the strategy of where it could head in the future.

The “overlap” has been a huge blessing. It’s given me time to say “goodbye” to my former role and start to tie up loose ends that I thought I’d have more time to work through. It’s allowed me to transition big ideas to other leaders and places on our team. And it’s allowed me to slowly test out the new role and get more excited about moving towards it.

This time has also helped me continue to see how “right” this is for me. The work with our new Associates is some of the most invigorating and exciting of my entire career. The opportunity to help provide a good experience and foundation for them as they start their careers with our team, and to help mentor them as I was mentored by others for so many years, is one I treasure as my next career challenge.

And now it’s time! The announcements about the new role came out over the last few days, so the proverbial cat is out of the bag and there’s no going back. I’m excited.

Some tips: How I found I could make this move

First, I have to admit that I was exceedingly lucky to have the opportunity to shape the evolution of how I can continue to contribute to our team. I now don’t look at it as “leaving a job” as much as “moving on to the next obvious opportunity,” which is how I should have looked at it from the very start of the process.

I’ve learned that it’s important to remember that everything we have is a gift – including the role we play in an organization. If we have good leaders and do great work, we’ll almost always have the opportunity to help create what’s next for us.

I’ve also learned that early reactions are emotionally charged, and it’s important to take time to properly work through the emotions of a job change. In particular, some of my initial ideas and reactions were nowhere near where I ended up landing, or where I would have wanted to land. In my approach to life, the centeredness of God’s will is of the utmost importance to me, so part of working through this involved a lot of time in prayer, and the discussion with my spiritual director.

It was a blessing to be able to let the process take time. I realize that in some job changes – particularly when we’re forced out of a role quickly or unexpectedly – this isn’t as possible. But it’s still important to at least force enough time to step back and reason through the right steps forward, and get the advice and input of people you trust.

Overall, be open and honest with what you would like to do next and how you feel you can best contribute to an organization. Honestly, at first, when the idea for this new role came up, I didn’t think it would afford the scope or scale that would let me continue to grow in my own career as a leader here on our team. But as we continued to balance what the team needed with what I wanted to be able to bring to the table, we were all able to share ideas that helped the scale grow in smart ways and become a challenge that I was excited to undertake.

Finally, trust. Trust that other people out there are good people and looking out for you and your career. If you do great work, they’ll do just that. If you have areas of improvement to consider, those are important points of feedback that I believe a good manager has a moral obligation to share with you. After all, that’s your manager’s job – to help you continue to grow and be your very best. If you’re not in a situation with a manager like that, I truly suggest you try to find a role with a manager who will nurture and challenge you – one you trust with your career.

To what’s next…

So over the next few weeks as I continue to transition my Chief of Staff role to a new Business Manager on our team, I’m extremely excited to continue to dive into re-envisioning and scaling up our “Consulting Academy” as my next leadership challenge.

Now I get to turn my attention to even more of what I love – leading more people, and helping them grow and develop, each in their own unique ways. In 2020, our “Adobe Consulting Academy” will grow and take on a life of its own! I’m looking forward to working with my team members who I will carry into this new role with me, and the new ones I’ll be seeking to join my leadership team.

I’ve been blessed with a career path full of great jobs, great opportunities and challenges, and great managers. I leave one amazing manager for another amazing manager on his team, and I look forward to what the future holds. If and when you find yourself in a situation like this, I hope that maybe my learnings and tips can be of help to you.

“Growth is the only evidence of life.” – St. John Henry Newman

I finally did it! I’ve envisioned this for a long, long time, but waited through a few years of formation, building a house, moving, unpacking, settling in, and several more months. Finally, this week, it seemed just about right. After talking with my spiritual director about it, I’ve finally tested publishing a podcast/audio version of my “weekly” reflection (below.) Let’s see if I can keep this up. If you’re interested, be sure to subscribe to the email updates (in the right-hand column) and/or the podcast feed. In future weeks I’ll work on the audio quality, intro music, and more. But to get started, here we go!

[buzzsprout episode=’2020395′ player=’true’]

Just last week, my wife Suzanne made a joke around our kitchen island with some of our boys… she said, “Since your dad is married to me, his job is to help make sure I go to Heaven… so that I can remind him of all the mistakes he made for all eternity.”

Joking aside, this Sunday’s Gospel uses our idea of marriage as a backdrop for Jesus teaching us a bit about what to expect of the world to come.

Approached by Sadducees, some of His time who didn’t believe in the bodily resurrection, Jesus was asked about a hypothetical scenario rooted in the Jewish law of the time related to marriage. It was a question about a woman who had a succession of lawful marriages after one then another of her husbands had died, and to which of the men she would be married in heaven.

Jesus seizes the opportunity not to focus on their riddle about marriage, but rather to teach about the means to their question – what heaven is like, or even moreso, what heaven is not like.

Jesus takes the opportunity to point out indirectly that marriage in our current existence is a construct at the service of the church and society, but is not replicated in the life hereafter. He teaches emphatically about a life to come after our current life, pointing out that even Moses recognized God of the living, not of the dead. Jesus said, “those who are deemed worthy to attain to the coming age and to the resurrection of the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. They can no longer die, for they are like angels; and they are the children of God.”

In one fell swoop, Jesus teaches that our earthly states of single or married life don’t follow us into heaven, but serve to help us get there.

Maybe that’s good news to those of us living a single life – we get to go into heaven with that unattached life intact, but we don’t carry with us any of the earthly loneliness that can sometimes come with living a vocation to single life. Our entire focus for eternity is gazing upon and worshipping the awesome reality of the love and power of God.

Maybe that’s good news too, to those of us living a married life – we go to heaven as the individuals that God created us to be. Maybe it’s sad that we won’t be “married” to our spouse for eternity. Or, for some of us, especially with those of us who have a lot of mistakes for our spouse to remind us of for eternity, it might be reassuring to know that maybe we can still love our spouse and loved ones in a new way, but be more focused on our love and worship of God than on dwelling on the wins and losses of our life.

A challenge for us to consider in this new week, as we continue to journey through this month in which we especially reflect upon the last things and those who have gone before us, is how we can continue to support one another in our Christian journeys in order to be among “those who are deemed worthy to attain the coming age.”

Married or single, in this community of faith, how do you support those around you? As Paul wrote to the Thessalonians in the second reading, “May the Lord direct your hearts to the love of God and to the endurance of Christ.” How can you support your spouse, your friend, your neighbor in this journey toward living in the love of God and sharing in the endurance of Christ more fully?

The more we care for our bodies, our relationships, these things in the world that God has given to us, but without becoming attached to them, the more we can be formed in the love of God and formed for the world that is promised to us for eternity. As the brother in the first reading from the second book of Maccabees said today, “It was from Heaven that I received these; for the sake of his laws I disdain them; from him I hope to receive them again… with the hope God gives of being raised up by him”

May God give us the grace to live with ever-decreasing attachment to the things of the earth, and ever-greater support of one another in running the Christian race, until that day when, God-willing, we can join together in the praise and worship of God in the world to come, joined with all those who have gone before us in the army of Saints.

On our formation weekend this weekend, a few of us were talking over a meal about the intentions we pray for as we pray the Rosary. One of the guys shared an approach he takes and I’ve tried it and find it very helpful.

Instead of concluding each Hail Mary with the traditional, “Hail Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of death,” substitute in the name of the particular person for whom you’re praying. It definitely makes it real and intentional…

Hail Mary… Pray for Suzanne, now and at the hour of her death…

Hail Mary… Pray for my boys, now and at the hours of their death…

Hail Mary… Pray for my mom and dad, now and at the hours of their death…

Hail Mary… Pray for Bishop Paprocki, now and at the hour of his death…

I still focus each decade, but this adds another even more intentional focus to each prayer.

Personally, I always pray:

• The first decade for the Pope and my Bishop,

• The second decade for priests and seminarians,

• The third decade for deacons, those in formation, and religious,

• The fourth decade for Suzanne, the boys, and our family,

• and the fifth decade for other specific intentions for which I’ve been asked to pray.

I saw something last night that really disturbed me. It didn’t all really click and set in at the time, but as the scene has continued to replay itself in my head over the last day, it pulls at my heart-strings.

At the moment, I’m in Little Rock, Arkansas with two of my sons. We’re spending a few nights here while they compete in the 50th anniversary World Championships of the ATA (American Taekwondo Association.)

Here’s the scene: Last night, we were having a quick bite to eat at a simple, local counter-service establishment. As we were sitting and eating, from across the room, I could see a man come into the restaurant, look at the counter and look around to survey whether anyone was noticing him, and then head to a trash can near the beverage counter. He didn’t look overly suspicious other than the way he came into the restaurant.  He looked tired and sweaty, but his clothes weren’t as rough or dirty as one might expect from a homeless person. But he proceeded to fish around in the trash can, find a plastic cup that wasn’t too dirty, and fill it with water from the soda machine.  He sat for a few minutes, savored the water, refilled the cup a bit more, took another big drink, and then threw the cup away, looked around again, and left the restaurant.

It was a hot day. I’m sure the man, if he was out walking on the streets, was in danger of heat exhaustion or worse. At the very least, he certainly needed a basic essential like water to even continue to survive.

I suppose that I was partially in amazement and partially in awe, but mainly just struck with wondering about him and his situation, that I didn’t jump into action to see if there was anything else I could do for him. (Ironic, at the World Expo of an organization whose motto is, “Always take action.”) I suppose that I also didn’t want to embarrass him or call attention to him because of how he had entered the restaurant and the way the whole scene had played out.

Like I said, though, that scene has continued to replay in my mind over the last day.

In this Sunday’s reading from the Gospel of Luke, we will hear Jesus tell the parable of the Good Samaritan to the scholar of the law who asked, “Who is my neighbor?”

In the parable, both a priest and a Levite come upon a man along the road who had been robbed, beaten, and left half-dead. Both saw him but passed by on the opposite side of the road, avoiding him and avoiding stepping in to help.

It took a Samaritan man, an outsider – an alien, to come along and take action.

The Samaritan man not only stepped in to provide immediate help, cleaning and bandaging his wounds and giving immediate aid, but then also took him to an inn, cared for him further, and arranged for the innkeeper to continue to care for him. He went so far as to say that he’d come back by to check and ensure that the stranger had been cared for.

This parable begs me to question how I had treated this “neighbor” with the dirty cup of water. Certainly not in the way that I hope and pray that I would. I can try to excuse it because of the way that it played out, and because I was focused on my sons, or other things. But I can also pray that I might find a better way to help in the situation next time.

Today, on our walk from the hotel to the tournament at the convention center, along the same little stretch of street – on the same block or the next block down from where we were last night, I saw an entirely different scene.  Another restaurant had put out a 5-gallon cooler of water and some cups for those passing by. There, I realized, was a modern-day “Samaritan” in the form of a business owner doing a good deed in the neighborhood.  It would be just as easy to ignore those on the street, to avoid the liability, or the cost, or whatever else. But here was a business owner who was choosing to take a simple step to make a difference for those who might need a simple drink of water.

“Who is my neighbor?”

What a great question to ponder. And what a great challenge to see and serve our neighbor in need… perhaps even more so in our modern society when it’s so easy for someone to slip through the door, steal some essential water in a dirty cup, and go otherwise unseen or ignored.

God, please grant me the grace to see my neighbor in need, to pass on his side of the road, and to help in the ways I’m able.

Some solid and challenging reflection on living our sacramental initiation into the Church in Baptism & Confirmation, all from Lumen Gentium (“Light of the Nations”), the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, one of the four constitutions of the Second Vatical Council – emphasis mine:

“The baptized… are consecrated as a spiritual house and a holy priesthood, in order that through all those works which are those of the Christian… they may offer spiritual sacrifices and proclaim the power of Him who has called them out of darkness into His marvelous light… Everywhere on earth they must bear witness to Christ.” (Lumen Gentium, 10)

“Incorporated in the Church through baptism, the faithful are destined by the baptismal character for the worship of the Christian religion; reborn as sons of God they must confess before men the faith which they have received from God through the Church.” (LG, 11)

“The Holy Spirit endows [those Confirmed] with special strength so that they are more strictly obligated to spread and defend the faith, both by word and by deed, as true witnesses of Christ.” (LG, 11)

“The obligation of spreading the faith is imposed on every disciple of Christ, according to his state.” (LG, 17)

How am I doing at living out these aspects of my Baptism and Confirmation?

Originally written for and delivered as a reflection at Holy Hour at our March 2019 diaconate formation weekend – March 8, 2019:

A reading from the first book of Kings, Chapter 19 verses :3-8:

Elijah was afraid and fled for his life, going to Beer-sheba of Judah. He left his servant there and went a day’s journey into the wilderness, until he came to a solitary broom tree and sat beneath it. He prayed for death: “Enough, LORD! Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.”  He lay down and fell asleep under the solitary broom tree, but suddenly a messenger* touched him and said, “Get up and eat!”  He looked and there at his head was a hearth cake and a jug of water. After he ate and drank, he lay down again, but the angel of the LORD came back a second time, touched him, and said, “Get up and eat or the journey will be too much for you!”  He got up, ate, and drank; then strengthened by that food, he walked forty days and forty nights to the mountain of God, Horeb.

As we begin our Lenten journey, at the end of a week that had a day of fasting and abstinence, and another day of abstinence, this reading might make us think only of physical food like the angel pointed out to Elijah… food like a Filet-of-Fish, or a salad, or Saturday morning bacon.

And yes, refraining from physical food as a means of self-denial, sacrifice, and penance, is an important part of the spiritual life and of our penitential season of Lent.

But tonight, as we spend time with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ here in Holy Hour, I’d suggest that we turn our thoughts inward on this moment and the way we pray and approach this moment.  I’ll admit that, despite hours upon hours in adoration and prayer with Jesus in Holy Hours like this one, I still find it uncomfortable at times.  I wonder whether I’m praying “the right way.”  My mind gets distracted, and I feel bad that I’ve left Jesus sitting there looking at me, waiting for me, while my thoughts are elsewhere.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes, despite my best efforts, I feel like I fail at spending time here with my best friend.

Sometimes, in those moments, I’m like Elijah, turning back and saying, “Enough, Lord! Take my life, for I am no better than my ancestors!”

But that’s when I realize that Jesus is still sitting here, the most patient and loving of friends, still waiting for me.  He understands, and he’s ready when I’m ready.

Last month in the Holy Hour reflection, David talked about suffering and silence.  He went into vivid detail about his son’s suffering after his attack in the streets New York City.  It was an amazingly touching story, but my heart and mind quickly flipped beyond suffering and honed in on the word “silence.”

Silence.

Let me tell a little story….

The night before our last formation weekend, I had made the decision to take a HUGE leap for someone who makes his living working in the daily grind of the tech industry, for a software company that makes much of its money from the time and attention of consumers inside of advertisers’ experiences.

I had come to the realization that enough was enough when it came to the distraction of quick little glances at my phone for Facebook updates, Tweets, Instagram posts, even emails and text messages.  That Thursday, I had made the decision to remove all of the social media apps from both my work and personal phones, and to turn off all of the notifications on emails and other messages, except for work emails during working hours and texts from Suzanne at any time.

Immediately after taking that step, I noticed that I had entered a vast ocean of wonderful silence.  I actually hadn’t even realized how much I had longed for that silence… that peace.

By the end of our last deacon weekend, I was truly savoring the fact that I wasn’t constantly pulling out my phone as a distraction in those “down moments” between conversations to check what was going on out there in the broader world beyond my immediate experience and influence.

Yes, there have been times when I’ve really been tempted to reinstall those apps.  Yes, there are moments when I really want the distraction. But no, I haven’t given in, and yes, I truly am appreciative of the “new life” I’ve had in my new, more real, more focused, interactions with other people in real life over the last month.

I saw its impact on my time in our Salt Lake City office this week, when my phone stayed in my bag most of each day and I found myself more focused on my teammates and team members.  I’ve certainly seen its impact in the time that I spend with Suzanne, and my time with the boys and with our other family members and friends.

Silence.

In this morning’s office of readings, St. John Chrysostom reflected upon prayer and conversation with God as “a supreme good.” He spoke of how our spirit should be quick to reach out toward God, constantly and in every moment and action.  Our prayer should be just an ongoing awareness of God and conversation with Him through each day.  He says, “The spirit, raised up to heaven by prayer, clings to God with the utmost tenderness; like a child crying tearfully for its mother.”  He says, “When the Lord gives this kind of prayer to a man, he gives him riches that cannot be taken away, heavenly food that satisfies the spirit. One who tastes this food is set on fire with an eternal longing for the Lord; his spirit burns as in a fire of the utmost intensity.”

I can’t say that I’m there yet.  I don’t know that I’ll ever be there in this life.  But I can say with sincerity that the “technology Lent” that I started last month is yielding fruits in helping me be more attentive to and present for others in my life.

Not that I ever pulled out my phone during Holy Hour, but my mind still had the muscle memory of quick distractions, and that’s starting to fade away a bit.  I hope and pray that this little change helps me be able to be more present here in Holy Hour with my Lord and my friend.  I hope and pray that we each find those little changes we need to make in our lives in order to deepen our time in prayer and increase the frequency in which prayer finds root in the moments of our day.

Then, like the child clinging tenderly as to its mother, we’ll be able to eat and drink deeply of God’s presence and grace, and like Elijah, we’ll find ourselves strengthened for the journey, ready to get up and face our forty day and forty night journey to the mountain of God.

My we all find our ways toward deeper prayer, deeper presence, and being more deeply filled by God as we journey through this Lent together.  Maybe it can begin in a special way here tonight, as we each spend time face to face with our Lord.  May God give us this grace.

Happy new year! It’s time to kick off 2019 with an after-action review of 2018 and setting up some public accountability for my 2019 goals.  I’m extremely grateful for a fantastic and successful 2018, but am looking forward to building upon 2018 and doing even better in the new (secular) year.

2018 – Top Wins:

• Faith & Formation:

  • Consistency in my morning & evening prayer & contemplation, and in meeting with my spiritual director

  • Successfully passing all of my academic coursework for formation, wrapping up my first pastoral assignment and getting into my new pastoral assignment

• Personal:

  • Truly disconnecting from work and taking my sabbatical, focusing time on the family and our activities together

  • Better balance and boundaries between work time and personal/family time

  • Designed, financed, purchased land for, and started the process of building our new family home

• Professional: A hugely successful year at work, tackling some major initiatives successfully, and meeting all my organizational goals

2018 – Top Failures:

• Not accomplishing my “publishing/platform” goal for 2018

• Falling away from diet & exercise – hitting a peak 2-year weight

• Still being too distracted by my phone & social media when I’m with the family

2018 – Goal Review:

• Goal: Publish consistently and turn it into sustainable cash flow – by end of Q3

  • Grade: F – Didn’t accomplish; probably wasn’t well-written or the right approach to the goal, and I didn’t focus my time in the right ways to make it happen.

• Goal: Clarify, nurture, develop Adobe Consulting org culture and communications

  • Grade: B – Accomplished what we could well in 2018. Definitely helped start to improve the culture & communications of our group, but more than anything set us up for success in 2019 through some of the changes we’re going through here at the bridge of 2018 to 2019.

• Goal: Be a better husband and dad, through conserving and maintaining what is important in our home

  • Grade: C – Wasn’t specific enough, but I’m always going to be tough on myself on this one.  It should come first, and I should be able to go to bed each night at peace with how I’m doing as a husband and father, knowing I’m giving more than my best.

2019 – Goals:

• Be a better husband and dad. Focus on quality time with Suzanne and the boys. Majority of time with them isn’t on my phone; focus on quality conversation each day with Suzanne.

• Work down to 165 pounds by July 4, maintain and build muscle through the back half of 2019. Run a 5K in the fall or before.

• Maintain daily prayer: Morning & Evening Prayer, Contemplative Prayer, Rosary, Chaplet of St. Michael

• Writing & publishing:  Develop consistent publishing platform by July 4; develop it into self-sustaining revenue source by end of 2019.

• Journaling: Journal at least once a week

I had a wonderful, vivid dream last night. I was in the middle of the most beautiful, never-ending liturgy, with people of every race and time and place. I was dressed in a simple alb and deacon’s stole, and my only concern for eternity was keeping the charcoal burning in a thurible. I was so content and happy, and even felt a little sad this morning as I recalled it and desired to be back there.

I was also supposed to fly to Dallas for an all-day meeting with my manager today, but my 7:30 flight was delayed to 9:30, then 11:30, then 1:30. Even with an earlier rebooking opportunity, we decided I’d just stay home and we’d meet virtually instead. It’ll be as productive but just not the same experience.

Much in this world is imperfect. We long for the perfect of the world to come.

I woke this morning to the sounds of the crickets finishing their evening chorus to the rising sun, and I laid in bed for a few minutes starting my conversation with God for the day. As I did so, the words of the Act of Contrition started to flow through my mind.

“And I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishment.”

I couldn’t help but continue to think about all of my own sins of my life and how I was truly sorry for them and wanted God’s grace to continue to get better, but also how tied to those sins was a just punishment. I prayed that someday, someone would have the sense to continue to pray for my soul after death as, hopefully, I underwent my own purification in Purgatory before going to be with God for eternity in Heaven.

Then, of course, my mind couldn’t help but turn to the current scandal facing the Church because of so many men in power who also sinned, and who also didn’t do the right thing when the situation called for it. The ongoing, renewed, and even bigger than imagined scandal of abuse of minors, covering it up, fostering and allowing an environment of sexual immorality – all of it is so terrible and heinous and unimaginable.  I detest all these sins by members of our own body, members of Christ’s body.

[N.B.: If you would like to hear a summary that comes close to some of my own thinking on the current scandal, listed to the guys on the Armchair Podcast, episode 50.  They come remarkable close to thoughtfully talking through the issue in a way that resonates with me deeply.]

Purification must come, is surely coming, for our Church in the present day.  This is good in a wonderful way, because through it, God will ensure that the human shell in which the Church resides – WE, THE PEOPLE OF THE CHURCH: Bishops, priests, deacons, religious, lay people of all stripes – will be holy and continuing to grow in holiness. Certainly the purification will be painful and difficult. Persecution will be real, in new ways. Tears will be shed. Things will likely look very different in our Church before another generation passes.

But the truth remains that God has given the keys to Peter, and his given the Eucharist to the Church, and has promised to protect it from the gates of Hell for all eternity.  No man or woman – no Cardinal or Bishop – no one of us – can remove God’s promise and gift in that regard. None of our indiscretions can change what God is, nor what His Church is.

There is a church here in town with a sign outside right now that reads, “Come as you are. You can change on the inside.”  The sentiment of that sign disturbs me greatly, because it turns from the objective truth of God, and the fact that we need something from the outside to help us change, some outside force.  It so candidly states the modernist view that we are what we think, and we can change that on a whim.

If anything, the scandal facing our Church right now shows that you cannot change from the inside. Outside forces of earthly justice will shine light on what was done wrong and help to change from the better, from the outside.

Just the same, we cannot change ourselves from the inside. Something from the outside is needed.  Often, with sin, it is the help of a friend calling us back from an addiction or something else that they see us doing. Or it is the love of a friend that we finally decide to choose above the sin that has become ingrained in our life.

Wisdom calls to us in our First Reading this weekend. She calls us to the banquet of knowledge: of knowledge of God, of virtue, of a sense of objective right and objective wrong.  Knowledge calls to us this weekend, as a Church, and as individual human beings, men and women who make good and bad choices every day.  Wisdom calls from outside, and She calls us to Her rich banquet.

Jesus continues the discourse on Himself as the Bread of Life in the Gospel this weekend. He says, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven.” He isn’t a change that we think we can make happen on the inside. He is truly a change that He Himself, God Himself, provides for us from the outside – Food, no less, to shape us and nourish us, and tie us ever-closer to Himself.

Those around Him when he taught this truth quarreled in disbelief.  “How can he?”

But Jesus replied that unless we eat of His flesh and drink of His blood, we cannot have life within us. We lose Wisdom, the knowledge of right and wrong. We lose heavenly life. We lose our way.

My friends, as we receive the gift that is God’s presence among us, the presence of Wisdom, the true Body and Blood of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ – whether it be this Sunday, or twenty years from now – whether it be our twentieth time or our two thousandth time, say a prayer of Thanksgiving for this food for the journey. Say a prayer of Thanksgiving for our Church, His Body, and for good and holy priests.

Because Jesus’ promise remains through all the generations of scandal that humans bring upon the Church. His Body and Blood come to the altar every day through the altar of good and holy priests – and, if we’re honest with ourselves – through those in whom there is still much room for growth in holiness, or even in whom there is much evil.

I don’t want to lighten or turn from the present scandal and needed purification.  But if we’re honest with ourselves, each of us, myself included, still have much room for growth in holiness, still have much evil.  We all need Christ’s Body, we all need Wisdom from Word and Eucharist to change us from outside and help us continue to grow toward God. We all need each other, Church, now more than ever.

The other morning, I took our dog on our usual walk down the street and around the park. While in the park, we came across an older lady from our church who I’ve seen around town from time to time, collecting and bagging up aluminum cans and plastic bottles. She was at it again that morning in the park, pulling a couple of bottles out of one of the trash cans and putting them into the bag she was carrying.

From time to time in the past, when I had seen her doing this, I had briefly wondered why she did it – it never seemed like she needed to try to recycle them for the money, but I didn’t know, and I didn’t ask. The other morning when I saw her doing it again, though, it made me wonder…

Perhaps she was collecting the cans and bottles because she looked at it as her “little thing” to do and to contribute to make the world around us a better place, as part of her role in humanity, in God’s family, and in the Body of Christ. Perhaps with each can or bottle came a little quiet prayer. But at least with each one came one less in a landfill, and one more in the stream of recycling.

In the texts for Mass this weekend, our Gospel still has us in the heart of the “Bread of Life Discourse” and our First Reading still supports that. In the Entrance Antiphon and the Collect, though, we hear reminders of God as Father, and reminding us – and God – of His Covenant.

While we hear Jesus continue to teach us of Himself as the Bread of Life and reflect upon that, I think it’s also helpful to start to turn our minds towards what it means to be within that Body, as part of it. After all, at our Baptism we do enter into that Body and become a part of it.

In the Entrance Antiphon, we hear, “Look to your covenant, O Lord, and forget not the life of your poor ones forever.” In the Collect, we hear, “taught by the Holy Spirit, we dare to call [you] Father… bring, we pray, to perfection in our hearts the spirit of adoption as your sons and daughters, that we may inherit to enter into the inheritance which you have promised.”

Those whispers of the Father, of Covenant, of inheritance bring us right back to the Gospel and the Bread of Life.

This week in the Gospel, those around Jesus are murmuring. By next week, they will be openly arguing about this teaching. The following week, they will be walking away, saying that the teaching is too hard.

If faith enables us to believe in Jesus as the true Bread of Life, come down from Heaven, then we can understand that God, in His covenant with us, has gone beyond providing the food needed for our earthly journey, to also providing the food needed for our spiritual and heavenly journey.

Jesus in the Most Holy Eucharist is that food. But approaching and receiving that food in the Mass follows the Eucharistic Prayer, in which our offerings and all of the sacrifices of our lives are joined together. Our sacrifices join with Christ’s on the altar, given to the Father, and returned to us as Jesus himself, our spiritual food.

What are my sacrifices? What do I do in my daily life that becomes my participation in the Body of Christ, that is brought to the altar and offered in that highest sacrifice? For the lady from our church, perhaps it is that daily sacrifice of walking around town, saving the recyclables from the landfill. For you, it might be offering some time with a friend who is lonely, or taking some food to a food pantry, or saying an extra prayer each hour of the day for someone who has no one praying for them. The variety of sacrifices we can bring to the Body are almost endless. But it’s important that each of us, as parts of the Body, take our share in its work.

The night before I was walking the dog, I stopped by our church for a meeting. When I was leaving, it was dark, but I noticed a homeless man laying along one side of the outside of the building. I hesitated, thinking that perhaps I should approach him, ask if he was okay, or see if there was anything that I could do to help him.

But I didn’t. Part of me was worried he might be sleeping, and perhaps I’d startle him. Maybe he’d feel threatened, or embarrassed. Maybe it could be dangerous. The short ending of the story is that I didn’t do anything. I passed by, and left him laying there. In hindsight, I regret my decision. I see this as one of those things that “I have failed to do.” I will ask for forgiveness of the community, of the Body of Christ, at the start of Mass this weekend. And I will say a quiet prayer for that homeless man, that perhaps someone else comes along who is able to help him in a way that he needs.

That man will remain for me a reminder of the role I have as an intentional disciple if I wish to follow Jesus and be an active, useful part of His Body. Next time, I hope I have the grace and the courage to do something in that situation. After all, God in His wonderful Covenant provides for me. As part of Christ’s body, it is only right that I return that to my brothers and sisters in the world. May God give me this grace. May God give us this grace.